


In Which There is A Strap-On

by omgbubblesomg



Series: 31 fics in 31 days [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Plug, Deepthroating, F/M, Face-Fucking, Kinktober 2017, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strap-Ons, Tied-Up Dean Winchester, a decided lack of sassy remarks from Dean, presumably due to things being put into his mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-10 15:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12301710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbubblesomg/pseuds/omgbubblesomg
Summary: Abaddon teaches Dean a lesson





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Day 8: Latex; roleplay; **deep-throating** /face sitting

“Silly boy thought he could win a demon’s war,” Abaddon mocked, no less frightening when she was naked than when she was fully dressed and armed.

He tested the ropes again, but there was no give. He was stuck in this chair until Abaddon chose otherwise. His hands twisted behind his back, trying and failing to find a loose knot for him to exploit.

“It’s time to show you who’s the real ruler in hell,” she purred. The monster cock between her legs waved suggestively at him and he gulped. It hadn’t seemed so big when she had put it on, but it had to be getting larger every time he looked at it. And his brain was supplying some pretty graphic ideas about what she might be interested in using it for.

“Listen, lady,” he said, halfway between placating and insolent, because fuck if he couldn’t grovel even when a strap-on was eyeing him from across the room. “Why don’t we just sit and talk this out instead, huh?”

“Talk?” She sauntered up to him and he couldn’t lean back far enough to stop the edge of the plastic cock from jabbing at his cheek. “I can think of much better uses for your mouth.”

“What are you— _hhgg_.” He was cut off as she twitched her hips forward, and the head of the cock jammed into his mouth. He twisted his head, trying to get away, but she followed easily, looking pleased and a little flushed as he struggled. He achieved nothing but a useless shake of his head.

“Easy, tiger,” she smirked. “We haven’t even started, yet.” She pushed again and Dean retched, desperately trying to breath around the plastic. She didn’t stop, even as his stomach revolted, sending spit and bile up to burn at his nose, making him cough and gag even further around the scant oxygen. “You’ll have to figure it out soon,” she told him, eyebrow raised. “Or you’ll asphyxiate before we can even get started.”

His eyes were tearing up and he kept trying to jerk his head away. He did not want this to be the end. Choking to death on demon dick.

The dick in question shoved even further down his throat and he was pretty sure he could actually feel the bulge of it in his neck. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t _breathe_. He was suffocating. The last thing he was going to experience was the taste of plastic hard and flat on his tongue.

He tried biting down. He tried pushing back against it with his tongue. Nothing would shake it loose and his lungs were hitching up at the intrusion, trying to expand by force. He desperately searched for a way out. The tears made it difficult to see, and the encroaching darkness didn’t help. There was just Abaddon’s face smirking down at him. Just the halo of her hair expanding out like a blood stain.

And then even that disappeared.

Fuck. He was about to faint. And then he would die in his fucking sleep. _Fuck._

The silence got very, very loud. Almost like white noise on a radio getting tuned into the background while the volume went up. He had enough experience with death to know that he wasn’t far off now. His body, which was some miles away, went limp.

And then, suddenly, oxygen. His throat made a terrible, bubbling sound as he instinctively tried to draw more air in, but he could only claw a tiny sliver of it around the intrusion in his throat. Everything swam into focus and he blinked away the tears, desperately breathing the wet, rattly air as he did.

His gag reflex had somehow subsided, and he tried not to think too hard about his body giving up the fight while he was passed out. Somehow he was breathing around the cock. Oh god, he was deep-throating it. It felt fucking enormous and he forced himself to stay relaxed, with his head tipped back to keep the sliver of his airway open.

Abaddon started fucking into him. Little lazy thrusts. Saliva dribbled out of his mouth every time she drew back, and soon his chin was a mess of it. Spit leaking just _everywhere._

“Good boy,” she whispered, and then she was pulling away completely, leaving him gasping. Was he done? Was it over?

She grabbed a hand pump from the table, and attached it to a nozzle at the base of the cock. She began to squeeze the pump, and to Dean’s horror the thing began to grow.

“Now you’ve figured out the basics we can really get started.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [metarachel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/metarachel/pseuds/metarachel). Since you asked so nicely xx

She choked him out dozens of times, until he became familiar with the sound of background static as he swam under consciousness. He tried to stay there as long as he could, as though asphyxiating until blacking out was some kind of reprieve. Which… it kind of was. Every time he woke up she’d start again. Sometimes she inflated the monster cock another size, pumping it with a soft _phwoo_ and grinning at Dean as she did, before sidling over and making him take it. Again. He kept waking up to that awful sound, and her awful grin, and the awful agony of his torn and overused throat.

And then, hours or days later, he woke up to something new. The chair was gone, and he was on his back. His legs were folded on top of him, and his arms were holding them in place, wrapped in enough rope to excite a sailor. He automatically tensed, trying to use gravity to break his legs free, or at least rock onto his side, but he was either too weak, or the ropes were too strong. They didn’t so much as creak.

“I have some business to attend to,” Abaddon crooned from nearby, and Dean tensed further. “But I have a parting gift for you, in case you ever feel the need to question my authority again." She waved the demon cock above his face. It had been deflated to its original size but it still looked scary, especially with all the straps hanging off it. Like a spiderweb of horror. And if the strap-on was the spiderweb, that made Abaddon the spider. Dean tried not to think about what that made him.

“Fuck off,” he rasped, more air than voice. His throat felt bruised, as though he’d been having a wrestling match with a noose.

“Almost,” she promised warmly. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him, and slid a hand over his exposed ass.

“Oh, fuck no,” was all he managed, before she positioned the black cock against his hole, and shoved it into him. His mouth opened on a scream that came out in a thin wail. Jesus _fuck_ that hurt. Though probably not as much as it could’ve. He didn’t know if she had used lube, or if his spit was still on the damn thing, but if nothing else it was probably now soaking in his blood. No way had she shoved that into him without at least some damage.

A pitiful whine escaped his throat before he could shut it off. His legs were trying to kick outward, and his arms were trying to fold inward, and the quantities of rope were stopping both. He gasped at the air and tried to force himself to… well, not calm down, exactly, but at least relax enough to stop the clawing ache in his thighs and ass.

“Full?” she asked him, smirking. He groaned in response. God, what would he look like, down there? All the webbed straps lying on the ground, connected to the base of the monster cock inside him.

“Fuck,” he wheezed.

“Something like that.” She fiddled with the base of the cock, and he heard it… that dreaded _phwoo_ noise that could only mean one thing. She was inflating it.

He screamed as he felt it grow inside him. And then screamed again when she didn’t stop. _Phwoo._ _Phwoo._ If he hadn’t been bleeding before, he definitely was now. _Phwoo._ His body was revolting, shaking and jerking in helpless terror as she kept going, and going, and _going._ He eventually fell to his side, which didn’t stop her at all, though now some of the weight of his legs was off his stomach and jesus fucking christ, how big was this thing if the weight of his legs against his stomach had been putting pressure on it. Fuck.

He passed out to the sound of her cooing his name, and the awful agony of the demon cock expanding huge inside him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for Kink Day 9: Sabriel + lingerie


End file.
